


I’ll see you in the future when we’re older

by trailsofpaper (Sanwall)



Series: Cross my heart and hope to die [1]
Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, Time Travel, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 06:22:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14396154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanwall/pseuds/trailsofpaper
Summary: Glastonbury, 2016. Dan would look forward to it if Brexit hadn't just happened, and if he could remember the last time they performed at the festival. Whatever happened on that night in 2013, Kyle won't tell him, and Dan never thought to ask.





	I’ll see you in the future when we’re older

**Author's Note:**

> This is my obligatory title-from-a-Bastille-song-fic. So, I know it’s two years late but let me just work out my Brexit issues through gay fanfic and magical realism, thanks.  
> Midsummer night might not be a big deal in England, but it is where I’m from, so it feels like the perfect vehicle for this sort of thing. As per usual, this got wildly out of hand.
> 
> A million thanks to [Trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash) for being a wonderful beta reader. Any and all remaining mistakes are absolutely my own.

Dan couldn’t ever remember his life tilting on its axis like this; going to bed with the world sorted and then waking up feeling like he’d missed a step and plunged right into hell.

Well, maybe he could remember one time something similar had occurred, even if it had been the opposite of remembering at the time. It had also been a lot more personal and smaller in scale. _Funny,_ he thought as he pulled a hand over tired eyes. He’d been at Glastonbury the last time, too.

“Well, this is the fucking pits, isn’t it,” Kyle said as the band met up for breakfast. “Can’t believe we had to learn the news stone cold sober, too.”

Dan raised his orange juice in a mock toast to Kyle, who smiled and lifted his mug of tea in acknowledgement. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, Dan thought. His hair had grown a bit long and hung over his forehead, and Dan sort of wanted to brush it aside, but Kyle had already lowered his eyes and turned away. Instead Dan pulled a hand through his own hair, soft and unstyled as it was.

Kyle had been a bit odd last night, now that Dan thought back. Last night - gathered in what passed for a lounge at their accommodations, they’d been watching the telly and cursing at the polls, all four of them pressed up in a tangle in the uncomfortable sofa.

“We should make a drinking game of this,” Kyle suggested and threw his head back to rest it against the back of the sofa, but Woody immediately whacked him with a pillow and Will said:

“Plenty of time to get smashed tomorrow, lad.”

“I mean if you want to play the big stage with a hangover, that’s your business,” Dan said, expecting a laugh. If anyone ought to understand that Dan didn’t want to get drunk, it was Kyle. But Kyle didn’t laugh, he just shifted on the sofa and said:

“Isn’t it the summer solstice tomorrow or something?”

“The fuck has that got to do with anything?” Woody asked and stretched out, enough to knock Kyle’s foot off his knee where he’d had his legs crossed.

“It’s midsummer, you know? Fuck off,” Kyle said irritatedly, and Dan had thought it was strange that Kyle would be so short with them, even if he was nervous. Maybe he’d had a feeling about the way the fucking vote was going to pan out.

So it was midsummer, and they were going to go on stage at Glastonbury festival that night. Dan and Will gave a short interview to NME, and Dan tried to not sound absolutely wrecked when the interviewer asked about Brexit. It wasn’t like they could have done something about it anyway, and they quickly moved on to other topics. Dan carefully didn’t mention that the last time he’d been at Glastonbury as the lead singer of Bastille he’d lost the memories of an entire night like it had never happened.

He’d always been predisposed to gloom, but as they caught a lift back to their accommodations Dan found himself for the first time in his life wishing back to a simpler time. To a time when they played smaller stages and Kyle would have let him pull his fingers through his hair and the world wasn’t run to ruin by racist shitheads.

But the world was at it was, and Dan found the hours stretching out before him until it was time to get on stage; a small eternity. He sighed and pressed himself inside the miniscule bathroom in his room - fairly certain he could hear whoever it was in the adjacent room brushing their teeth - and pulled out his shaving kit. What else was there to do but get ready, really?

The act of shaving was meditative, simple and repetitive motions, and, when Dan had toweled off his face, he found that his eyelids had grown heavy. He went back into the room and checked his phone - he had plenty of time for a nap. Years on the road had taught him the importance of grabbing sleep whenever you could, so he promptly stripped down to his pants and crawled under the covers. Another thing he’d learned on the road; if you’re going to nap, do it properly.

△

He fell asleep like he did when he was coming down with the flu - out like a light as soon as he closed his eyes, and then feeling like no time at all had passed when he opened them again.

“Hey, Dan, you need to get dressed,” Dick was saying, gently shaking his shoulder. “It’s going to take time to ferry you to the stage so we have to get going.”

“Sure, sorry,” Dan mumbled and sat up, disoriented and still sleepy, with grit in his eyes and lead in his limbs.

He fumbled out of the covers and went over to where he thought he’d thrown his trousers - he found them on a chair instead of on the floor and figured Dick had been kind enough to fold them and felt a small rush of embarrassment. That wasn’t in the job description of their overworked tour manager.

He was pretty sure the trousers hadn’t been this tight when he’d had them on earlier, but then again, he tended to want to crawl out of his skin whenever he’d just awoken, so he pulled them on despite the discomfort and then cast about for a t-shirt to wear.

He’d half-picked out one already, the black one with a white ribcage, but when he dug into his open suitcase, what came up was a black t-shirt with a wolf print that he hadn’t seen in years. How long had it been wedged at the bottom of this suitcase for?  Shocked, Dan stared at it for a second, and then Dick walked past his open door and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“Time to go Dan!”

The t-shirt smelled relatively clean and didn’t look particularly rumpled either, so Dan pulled the wolf print t-shirt over his head. As he did so, he realised that he hadn’t styled his hair, but it couldn’t be helped now. He had to push his feet into his ratty Converse and run after Dick and his bandmates.

“You get a haircut or something, Woody?” Dan asked, half-joking as he caught up with them.

“Don’t be daft,” Woody replied with dignity, but then elbowed Dan in the side. “But thanks mate. Your own hair looks like a bird’s nest.”

Self-consciously, Dan pulled his hand through it and then they were seated in the buggy, he and Woody at the back and Kyle and Will with Dick in the front. During the ride Dan stared at his feet and had the heaviest déjà vu experience of his life while thinking that he’d been sure he’d brought his all-black shoes and not these, faded to grey, that were on his feet.

Then the buggy took a turn and they were at their destination. As they scrambled off, Dan looked up and realised the sky was a lot darker than he’d expected - the sun had been so bright earlier, and it couldn’t be past sunset, and even an overcast sky wouldn’t be this dark. With an odd feeling in his gut he pulled out his phone from his back pocket to open it. It felt strange in his hand and he must’ve fumbled the passcode, because the screen remained locked. But the screen still showed the time - three hours after they were supposed to be on.

“Uh, lads,” Dan called without looking up from his phone, but they had all gone backstage already. Dan blindly felt for the door to stumble inside as well, and that was when he noticed the date on the phone. It didn’t read June 24, 2016.

The thing was, Dan knew they had performed at Glastonbury in 2013 - he’d seen some of the BBC footage, unable to recognise himself as he took the stage with confidence. He knew they’d played a good set to an enthusiastic crowd because he’d been told as much. Dan himself, however, couldn’t remember even a second of it. They’d gone out drinking afterwards, of course, it was Glastonbury, but Dan hadn’t ever been so blackout drunk, neither before nor after, that he’d erased an entire evening from memory. But that was what had happened.

The following morning he’d apologised to Kyle, who at the time had looked uncomfortable and a little sad, for making such an absolute tit of himself. Will and Woody had only shrugged, so Dan presumed it had fallen on Kyle to haul his drunk arse to bed and see to it he didn’t choke on his own vomit. That must have been what had happened. He’d only been grateful that the hangover was mild.

For a second Dan wondered if being back at Glastonbury was uncovering his lost memories, as he walked into a backstage that was much darker and more cramped than the one he remembered from soundcheck earlier that afternoon. But it was so real, like a waking dream - a midsummer night’s dream, Dan thought, wildly. Fucking Shakespearean.

A hysteria-tinged bark of laughter left his lips as he collapsed against the wall of the backstage, just beside a crate of equipment. Of course Kyle was the one who turned around, alert and attentive as always.

“What’s happening, Dan?” he asked brightly and moved closer. He was wearing one of those ridiculous print t-shirts - Barbra Streisand or something - and Dan felt another panicked chuckle well out of his mouth before he could stop it. He tore his gaze off the t-shirt and looked up at Kyle’s face.

His hair was cut short, following the shape of his skull and not even remotely falling over his eyes. The beard was similarly cropped, neat and tidy and unlike the fluffy curls that had caught some marmalade at the corner of his mouth that morning- in the future, Dan supposed. Fuck. This wasn’t a dream, it was a nightmare.

He needed to get back. He had a show in 2016 to get to, and if- if Dan from this year had been whisked into the future, they’d be fucked. He’d barely started on what would become Wild World, he didn’t know the songs, it wouldn’t work. Dan needed to get back, to fall asleep again, or do whatever it took to- But that couldn’t be. Wouldn’t Dan remember if he’d been whisked into the future in 2013? Or was that not how this worked?

“You look like shit, babes,” Kyle said kindly and grounded him in the present by grabbing Dan by the shoulders. That would be the three years worth of wrinkles and sleepless nights added up, Dan thought. “Everything okay?”

“I-” Dan said, trying desperately to come up with how to explain the situation in a way that didn’t make him sound completely mad. What he settled on was a weak: “I can’t remember our setlist.”

Kyle searched his eyes for a moment, just a brief moment where his gaze was locked on him, unreadable, but then he nodded and rubbed soothingly at Dan’s shoulder with his thumb.

“It’s alright, we can write it down on your drum with a sharpie, like we used to do.”

Dan loved Will and Woody, he really did, but Kyle understood him in a way they would never do. Will and Woody were at home with themselves wherever they went, brought their self-confidence along with them, but Kyle understood the crawling sense of unease that sometimes overtook Dan, that made him feel out of place and unwanted. Though in this, Dan suspected not even Kyle could understand just how out of place he actually was.

Still he helped Dan write down the setlist without asking any questions, and Dan could breathe a sigh of relief. One thing at a time; it was mostly songs they’d played for so many years he could do them in his sleep. _What Would You Do_ was a wild card, Dan hadn’t had to perform that one in a good long while, and it wasn’t even his song. Maybe that would make it easier.

He still felt like throwing up right up until it was time to go out on stage. Kyle clapped him on the shoulder again, rubbed his thumb where his shirt collar met skin, and without thinking about it Dan melted into the touch, his body leaning into Kyle with something like relief.

“You’re going to rock it, Dan,” Kyle said, and he was so young. His eyes were so large and hopeful, and Dan knew for a fact that he was dying with nerves at this very moment - Kyle had told him as much, before. Later.

And as Kyle said that, his thumb warm at Dan's throat, Dan realised he was right. Dan was going to rock it because he already had. There was nothing to worry about because it had already happened. At least that was how Dan thought this worked. No time to think about time travel paradoxes when it was showtime, and out on stage they went, the four of them in a row. Dan almost fucked it up by asking where Charlie was.

The weird thing was, as much as Dan had had to fight his nature over the years to be comfortable on stage, that it was almost a relief to be in front of a crowd this big now. No time to get lost in his head or worry about world ending paradoxes. Just do the show and try not to fuck up and you'll be alright.

And thanks to the messily scrawled setlist on the drum skin, he made it through and even enjoyed it - the crowd was great and it was like Dan's body knew the songs even if his consciousness didn’t, the music around him like metaphysical muscle memory.

He looked up at the sky, once, over the heads of the massive, massive crowd, as if to see whether or not the stars were different here in the past. Of course there were no stars to be seen through the light pollution, and then somehow, the show was over.

As they left the stage to deafening cheers, Dan was overwrought with the weight of his situation. What if he would never get back to his own time? What if this was permanent, what if he had to live through his life again, from this point. What would he have to change? Could he change or was he doomed to live out the same mistakes all over again, like a Greek tragedy, like Sisyphus pushing that stone up the hill time and time again?

“I need a drink,” Dan told Will, who grinned his lopsided grin at him and dunked him on the back.

“I told you you were going to rock it,” Kyle said and hip-checked Will to the side to sneak an arm around Dan’s shoulders, and again Dan found himself melting into the touch before he could stop himself. Kyle turned his face and pressed his mouth to Dan’s ear and whispered, “You were amazing, Dan.”

Despite himself, Dan shivered at the wash of hot breath over his skin.

“Thanks mate,” he said, and his voice was hoarse from singing. “You’ve saved my life.”

Dan didn’t know how seriously Kyle took his words, but he barely left Dan’s side as they went out to grab beer and fight the crowd to see some of the remaining shows. No one seemed to notice that Dan’s armbands were the opposite of outdated, where he kind of hung off Kyle’s back and tagged along.

“I’m having a midsummer night’s dream,” Dan told him when the last show had turned into indiscriminate drinking and dancing, because he was just drunk enough that the situation had turned from hysteria to hysterically funny. There was something about odd time in that play, wasn’t there? Dan was pretty sure he remembered something about it from his course on Shakespeare, a fucking lifetime ago.

“It’s not midsummer yet though, is it?” Kyle said. He was smiling and Dan found himself laughing and listing towards him.

“No, not yet,” he agreed cheerfully. _Give it three years._

“I think it’s time for us to drink some water, or we’re going to wake up with the mother of all headaches,” Kyle said and locked his arm around Dan’s neck. “Can’t have that.”

“Since when are you a responsible drinker?” Dan protested and fought his grip half-heartedly, which meant that really he was just pressing himself closer. Kyle laughed openly, and Dan let himself be pulled along. They’d lost track of the others somewhere on the way, but that hardly mattered.

They did get water back at their accommodations, in the shabby communal kitchen, and as they drank Dan looked at Kyle from under his lashes. It was Kyle, familiar and comfortable, but at the same time, it wasn’t. This was a different Kyle than the one Dan knew, the weight of three years heavy on Dan’s shoulders as he looked at him.

“You alright there, Dan?” Kyle asked after swallowing his last mouthful of water. He lowered the cup and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in a smile, but Dan’s eyes caught on the drop of water sliding down the column of his neck.

“Not really,” Dan admitted with a shaky sigh and tore his eyes away from the water droplet, up to meet Kyle’s gaze. For a moment, there was a flash of something electrifying in Kyle’s dark eyes, and Dan felt a corresponding tug in his stomach.

“D’you maybe want to get out of here?” Kyle asked, and Dan nodded before he even realised what it was he was agreeing to. When he did realise, that hot tug in his stomach intensified, only exacerbated by how Kyle’s fingers brushed against the soft underside of his wrist as they walked. Kyle had already effectively gotten them out of there and alone, like he’d planned it.

Would there be a time paradox if Dan didn’t go with Kyle? Hadn’t he already gone with Kyle? There was no way for Dan to know, and still his feet seemed to follow him, almost of their own volition.

This was a bad idea. Dan knew this, just as he knew that the following morning he wouldn’t be here and instead the Dan who belonged in this time would wake up in his rickety bed and not know what had happened last night, which was this:

Kyle opening the door to his room and pulling Dan in by his t-shirt. Pressing Dan up against the closed door and nudging their noses against each other, not yet kissing but tilting their bodies so they fit together in heady proximity.

“You’ve been different today, somehow” Kyle murmured. This close, Dan had to crane his neck to look him in the eyes, and he could see that the laughter lines around them were not etched quite so deep yet. Kyle’s hands were cradling Dan’s face, his thumb sweeping along the edge of Dan’s cheek, and Dan _wanted-_

“I’ve missed you,” he replied. It was nonsensical but true - he had forgotten the way Kyle used to support him with a smile and a touch when he most needed it. How Kyle always nodded encouragingly whenever Dan floundered and needed reassurance. He hadn’t even realised it was missing until he had it back - now, in the past.

“I’ve been right here all along, you know,” Kyle said, his eyelashes casting long shadows over his cheekbones when his eyes dropped to Dan’s mouth. Dan knew it was true, didn’t know how he’d been so blind to it for so long. He could smell alcohol on Kyle’s breath, he could taste it on his own, but he had never felt so grounded and aware of the present, anchored by Kyle’s body.

All the reasons why they shouldn’t - they were drunk, Dan wasn’t who Kyle thought he was, and the one Kyle thought he was wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, and Kyle was never going to tell him about this later - all of this evaporated from his mind when Kyle hitched his leg in between Dan’s and pressed his thigh against his groin.

It was like Dan had always wanted this, and even across the gulf of three years this was still _Kyle_ and in that moment Dan knew if he’d been catapulted three years into the future instead, he’d still want this.

This - Kyle’s mouth hot on his own, lips parting to share breaths. Dan’s hands landing on narrow hips, feeling the sharp planes of Kyle’s lanky body under his palms. Kyle’s tongue touched Dan’s lower lip, and Dan immediately tilted his head back, allowed Kyle entry by opening his mouth and letting his tongue slip inside.

It felt so right, and a small part of Dan wondered if the price of this night was _never again._ If so, he was still powerless to resist. Their mouths slid apart with a wet sound, and even though Kyle’s hands never left Dan’s face, he leaned back a little.

“Dan,” he said, and had his voice always been that low? It had to have been, it had just never resonated with the pit of Dan’s stomach like that, made a hot rush of blood flow downward. “Hey Dan, are you with me?”

“Of course I’m with you,” Dan said, but even as he said it he heard how his words sounded slurred, how maybe there was a tension in his body that sent the wrong message. Kyle slid his hands down, to rest on Dan’s shoulders, and Dan tightened his own grip on Kyle’s hips.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said and nudged his nose to Kyle’s, to make him look him in the eyes. “I promise you I’m here, now. It’s just been a day, you know?”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed, and he smiled  - a goofy, wild smile that made him seem younger yet. It sent Dan a stab of heartache so visceral that he had kiss Kyle again, push up and pry his lips apart and map his teeth with his tongue. Kyle made a noise low in his throat and Dan pulled at his t-shirt to get his hands under it, on warm skin.

“Kyle,” Dan said and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, his beard bristly under his lips. “Kyle,” he repeated and kissed the line of his throat, where he’d tracked the drop of water. “Kyle,” he gasped and slipped his hands under the band of Kyle’s pants, to press him closer by gripping his arse.

“Yeah, what, Dan?” Kyle said, and there was laughter in his voice even if it was a little breathless.

“I’m so sorry,” Dan said and pushed Kyle’s t-shirt up to his armpits  just to drop to his knees and press his face to Kyle’s stomach. Kyle’s t-shirt got caught in his wristwatch as he tried to pull it all the way off, and when he finally did get it off he looked down and said:

“Sorry? What do you-” and then he seemed to choke a little because Dan had undone his belt and trousers and now he pressed his open mouth to the warm bulge in Kyle’s pants. “No- er, no need to apologise, you know. That’s fine with me. Really, I’m fine. Great, even”

Despite himself, Dan laughed, mouth still pressed against the fabric stretched over Kyle’s cock. Kyle groaned and placed his hand on the crown of Dan’s head, threaded his long fingers into his hair. Dan closed his eyes, let the shiver travel all the way down his spine, and then he pushed down Kyle’s trousers and pants at once, let them pool around his ankles. Then he licked a wet stripe up his cock, coaxing it into full hardness by pressing a kiss to the tip. The smell of him was overwhelming but enticing, and Dan wanted all of him.

“Oh my god,” Kyle muttered and kneaded the pads of his fingers against Dan’s scalp, not pushing or pulling, only touching. The burst of pleasure took Dan by surprise and a soft moan escaped his lips in response to it, but to mask it he immediately slid his hands up Kyle’s thighs and took as much of him as he could into his mouth. Kyle’s knees buckled a little and he cursed out loud.

“Didn’t know you- ah. Knew how to-” Kyle was saying, and Dan leaned back, slid his mouth off to look up and say:

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Kyle. I just wanted-” Their eyes met, and Dan had the breath knocked out of him with how intense Kyle looked, his expressive eyebrows framing dark eyes, his red lips parted around the glimmer of white teeth. The cut of his cheekbones, the arc of his nose, the leonine frame of his beard. Dan looked down again, determined. “Don’t stop touching my hair.”

And then Dan put his mouth back on him to get lost. His jaw ached and tears pooled at the corners of his eyes and he wanted all of it, the smell, the taste, the sound of Kyle’s breathing.

“Dan,” Kyle said after a while, both hands obediently buried in Dan’s hair where he was half-bent over him, thighs trembling. “Dan, I’m going to come, Dan-”

Almost obstinately, Dan refused to move, and Kyle did as he promised; he came with a hot burst on Dan’s tongue and with Dan’s name on his own. For a second, Dan thought he was going to choke, but then he withdrew and leaned his forehead against Kyle’s hip and swallowed. He was breathing heavily through his nose, and his own arousal was a distant ache; much more pressing were Kyle’s fingers still entwined in his hair.

Almost lazily, Kyle tugged at it, pulling Dan’s head back. Dan let it happen, felt the heat curl through him in response to it as he gazed up at Kyle from under heavy eyelids.

“Get up,” Kyle said, his chest heaving as he spoke. “Get naked, god, Dan.”

“I don’t-” Dan tried to say, but his voice was hoarse and Kyle grabbed his t-shirt and hauled him to his feet before he could finish the sentence. Suddenly they were face to face again, Kyle just tall enough to cage Dan in when he reached around to tug at his t-shirt.

“Naked, please,” Kyle breathed into Dan’s ear, and who was Dan to say no to him? He lifted his arms and let Kyle pull the t-shirt off him, and then he nudged Kyle’s knee with his own to signal that he get rid of his remaining clothes too, while Dan stripped out of his trousers and shoes, socks and pants, in a frenzy he’d never quite experienced before.

And then they were naked, and Dan felt a shiver creep over his skin, even as Kyle tugged at him insistently, pushing him down on the bed that was unmade from that morning and probably still smelled like Kyle.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to-” Dan tried again, but Kyle was already straddling him and pushed him down in the sheets.

“Just let me get my hands on you,” he said, and his voice was a little rough, a lot commanding, and Dan felt his limbs twitch reflexively. Kyle’s hands. Even at twenty-five Kyle was deft with them, his hands sure of what they were doing, confident. Roaming over Dan’s body - smoothing down his shoulders, across his chest, a calloused palm pausing to press into his nipple. Dan gasped and bucked, but he was anchored by Kyle’s weight across his thighs and he cast about desperately to grab at something to ground him. His hands closed around Kyle’s wrists, just as they traveled across his stomach.

“What?” Kyle murmured and stilled on top of Dan, his hands a warm weight of promise on his skin.

“Let me just look at you, please,” Dan said, and surprise flickered across Kyle’s face. Dan gave in to impulse and heaved himself up, rolled them over in bed so he was on top of Kyle, their legs tangling together. The surprise had turned into an incredulous smile on Kyle’s face and Dan had to bend down to kiss it, heedless of the beard scratching across his tender lips. He didn’t know if he’d ever had sex with someone with the lights on.

“What’s gotten into you?” Kyle said, and he sounded so happy that Dan flushed and quickly kissed the divot at the base of Kyle’s throat to hide his face.

“It’s not everyday this happens, is it? I just-” Dan mumbled against his collarbone, but bit down on the words to keep from saying the wrong thing. _I just want to remember. I just want this to be real._ He kissed Kyle’s breastbone, tracked the smattering of dark hair on his chest leading down across his stomach, but then Kyle grabbed his face with both his hands and pulled him up so they were face to face again.

“I get it,” he said, smiling and ran the pad of his thumb feather-light across Dan’s lower lip. Kyle was beautiful like this, relaxed but still intent, with his huge, dark eyes focused on Dan. He  smiled back: Kyle looked like he was going to say something more, and that was why Dan kissed him, pulled his lower lip in between his teeth in a quick tug before pressing his tongue inside. Kyle didn’t protest; he made a muffled sound and allowed him to invade his mouth, wantonly arching his body beneath Dan’s. His hands traveled across Dan’s back, the rings on his fingers and the armbands on his wrists scratching along his skin, and Dan pressed down into Kyle’s warmth, his arousal flaring to life.

He felt Kyle stir against his own cock, and couldn’t stop the airy chuckle from escaping, where they were still pressed together in a filthy kiss. Oh, to be young again.

“What?” Kyle gasped when he turned his head a little to the side, to breathe. A string of saliva snapped between their mouths, and Dan ran his tongue over his lower lip before he said:

“Will you fuck me?”

Dan could feel Kyle’s cock twitch against him again, clearly interested. But Kyle himself stilled, even though his chest still heaved with uneven breathing.

“What- Dan, d’you even know if you like that sort of thing?” he asked, turning his head back to look Dan in the eyes.

“Fuck,” Dan said and pressed his forehead to Kyle’s shoulder, to avoid looking him in the eyes. “Yes Kyle, I like it. I promise.”

“Well,” said Kyle and with a rustle of bedclothes, he sat up so Dan had to hitch himself back a little. Their cocks rubbed together with the movement and the both of them had to take a second to just breathe.

“I mean I’ve got lube I just- I didn’t think I’d actually pull someone here, so I’ve got no condoms with me,” Kyle said nervously, and all of a sudden he looked so young that Dan had to close his eyes against it, the world around him swimming for just a second.

“It’s fine,” Dan said then, eyes still closed. “I mean I’m- I’m clean, so that’s like...”

“Me too,” Kyle said softly, and Dan opened his eyes to the gentle touch to his cheek. Kyle had pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and regarded Dan with hooded eyes, his thumb idly caressing his cheek. The metal of his ring was smooth against Dan’s skin.

“Alright, so will you fuck me?” Dan said, and he smiled when Kyle closed his eyes and groaned loudly, dropping his hand to Dan’s shoulder to knead at the trapezius muscle.

“Anything you want,” was what Kyle replied at last, when he opened his eyes. Dan had to bite his own lip and look away, down at Kyle’s arm, the fine bones in his wrist. Then he sat back, rolled off Kyle and nudged at him with his foot.

“Get the lube then, won’t you?”

“Bossy,” Kyle said with a grin as he got to his feet and walked over to his duffel bag - he was going to lose that duffel bag on a flight to the States in 2015, Dan realised with a detached sort of dread - and bent over to root through it. To recover, Dan let out a low whistle through his teeth, and Kyle extended his hand behind him to flip him off without looking up from the bag. Dan had to laugh, because even if this situation was absolutely impossible and couldn’t be real, everything with Kyle was always so easy.

When Kyle stood up and turned around, he lobbed the bottle of lube at Dan with such force that it was only thanks to luck that Dan managed to catch it as it thudded into his chest.

“Oi!” Dan protested, even as Kyle clambered back onto the bed and crawled towards him on all fours.

“Oi yourself!” Kyle said and stretched out over Dan to kiss him on the mouth again. “Do you want to- er, do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Dan said immediately and kissed him back, pressing the bottle into Kyle’s hands.

Kyle huffed out a breath and sat back on his haunches. Dan watched, fascinated, as he removed his rings conscientiously, one by one, and put them on the dresser. Then he poured a generous amount of lube into his right palm and closed his fingers in a loose fist.

“It’s just- to warm it up a bit,” he said, without looking up.

“Come here, you,” Dan said before his brain could convince him to shut up, and he put his hand on Kyle’s cheek to get him to look at him and also come closer again. Kyle did look up, but as Dan pulled at him he overbalanced. He fell across him with a soft grunt, his left hand shooting out to brace him against the bed, splayed on the pillow beside Dan’s head.

“Hi,” Dan said, his voice husky, and watched Kyle’s eyelashes fan in a slow blink.

“Hello,” Kyle said and his smile made Dan’s heart flutter, like he was some teenage girl in a romantic comedy. He kind of hated it. “So, I’m going to-”

Despite Kyle’s attempts to warm it up, the first touch was cold, and Dan tensed up. Kyle leaned down to kiss him and Dan got lost in the hot slide of lips for long enough that the next touch barely registered.

The realisation that Kyle’s fingers were inside of him flooded like lava through his body, and Dan moaned into Kyle’s mouth, desperately burying his hand in his short hair to keep him close. Kyle turned his head, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

“You okay?” Kyle said breathlessly, barely above a grunt. Dan could only keen and cling even tighter, unable to gather his thoughts for coherent speech because he was too caught up in _feeling._ He was achingly hard, and it was like his body was searching for friction without his conscious input, pressing up against Kyle’s steadfast movement.

“Dan,” Kyle said and paused, which frankly, Dan found unconscionable. He lifted his leg, slung it across Kyle’s lower back to press him down and closer. Kyle kissed the base of his neck again, and then scraped his teeth against the same spot, making Dan shiver.

“Please fuck me,” Dan managed to say. Kyle made a noise like growl and pulled a bit of Dan’s skin in between his teeth and sucked, almost feral in his attention. It hurt; it was going to bruise and Dan only tried to press him even closer.

Then Kyle’s fingers slipped out and Dan felt him use the remaining lube in his hand to slick up his own cock. Somehow this gross minutiae of sex felt unbearably intimate, and Dan couldn’t breathe, felt like bursting with it, the sound of their bodies together.

“Well, since you said please,” Kyle murmured after what felt like an eternity and shifted above him. Dan just about had time to laugh before he felt the tip of Kyle’s cock press up against him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, fuck, like this,” Dan gasped and grabbed at Kyle’s shoulder blade with one hand, the other still pressed against the back of his head

“I can’t believe- can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long and this never came up,” Kyle whispered even as he pushed inside, the both of them trembling against each other. Dan let his head fall back, and he surprised himself by replying:

“Yeah, you have no idea, Kyle.”

Kyle laughed, a hitch of his breath more than anything else, and Dan screwed his eyes shut. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, even though- this was exactly how it had already happened to Kyle. Thinking about it was giving Dan a headache, something throbbing at his temples, but then Kyle moved, reached back to grab Dan’s knee. The shift of their bodies made Kyle slip in all the way, punching a gasp from Dan’s lungs, and Dan held onto him even tighter. Surely he was leaving a mark on the soft skin of Kyle’s lower back with the way his short nails dug in.

“Is it, are you alright?” Kyle said, and something rough had snuck into his voice that scratched along Dan’s consciousness like a match to a matchbook. Dan turned his face, pressed it against the side of Kyle’s, his beard tickling his mouth as he said:

“You feel amazing.”

Dan wasn’t prepared for his words to elicit such a reaction in Kyle. He moaned, low and sharp and immediate, and started to move, thrusting his hips against Dan in a steady rhythm. Feeling the muscles stretch and bunch in his back under his hand was just as fantastic as the feeling of Kyle filling him up, sending sparks up his spine, and Dan opened his mouth, blindly biting at his ear, mouthing at his cheek.

“Bloody hell,” Kyle gasped, turning his face to capture Dan’s mouth in a kiss.

At some point, Dan realised he was the one making those short, high-pitched noises in time with Kyle’s thrusts. He would’ve been embarrassed, but he was too far gone, so he just clawed blindly at Kyle until he grunted and let go of Dan’s knee to reach in between them and take Dan’s leaking cock in hand.

Dan’s orgasm welled up, both taking him by surprise and being such a long time coming that he almost sobbed with the relief of it. His entire body tensed, and he felt Kyle follow him over the edge with a drawn out groan that barely penetrated the haze of ecstasy that clouded Dan’s brain

“Oh, Jesus fuck,” Kyle mumbled as he collapsed on top of Dan, breathing heavily. For all his height, Kyle barely weighed a thing, and Dan bore his weight happily, shifting only so he could run his hand up and down the entire length of Kyle’s back, affectionately dipping down to squeeze his arse once. Kyle made a soft humming noise and pushed his nose up against the soft spot beneath Dan’s jaw, sounding for all the world like a cat stretching out in a spot of sun.

“I think- we need to get up,” Dan whispered, and Kyle made a disgruntled huff against his throat in reply. “No I mean it Kyle, I need to clean up, I’m a bloody mess.”

At that, Kyle pushed up on his arms and looked down between them. The movement made him slip out of Dan a little, and they both winced.

“You’re not wrong,” Kyle said, but he was giving Dan a sly grin, and Dan playfully smacked his arm. It was all taut tendons over wiry muscle - god, Kyle still didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. By no rights should he be this comfortable to have splayed atop of you, Dan thought.

“Alright, alright, let’s go have a shower,” Kyle said and Dan didn’t quite understand that Kyle meant them to actually take the shower together until Kyle crowded into the miniscule stall with him.

“This really isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had,” Dan said as they lukewarm spray of water barely managed to hit both of them, and mostly hit Kyle’s head because he was taller.

“Well, I’m sorry, your highness,” Kyle snorted and Dan poked him in the stomach, viciously.

“You look like a drenched weasel,” he supplied helpfully and Kyle poked him right back, but after rinsing himself down he pressed a wet kiss to Dan’s cheek and evacuated the shower to let Dan clean himself a little more thoroughly.

And alone under the spray of water, Dan felt his heartache bloom out in his entire body. He was going to hurt Kyle no matter what - there wasn’t a happy ending to them hooking up in 2013. He shouldn’t have done it, but wasn’t that a given? _Dan Smith done fucked up, news at eleven._

With a heavy sigh, Dan turned off the water and stepped out. He allowed himself a second to look at himself in the mirror, his hair damp and unseemly, and ran a finger over the red bruise Kyle had left him just where his neck met his shoulder. It wouldn’t be visible with a t-shirt, and Dan didn’t know if that was good or bad.

He used the same towel as Kyle, barely wiping the off the worst of the water before he padded out into the room. Kyle had already turned the lights off and crawled under the covers, and for a second Dan contemplated just leaving, if that would be best - but he couldn’t very well leave naked, and besides, Kyle lifted the covers in an obvious invite.

“It’s too late to regret anything,” Kyle called. “Might as well get comfortable.”

He was joking so Dan huffed out a laugh, even though the words hit a little too close to home. But Kyle was right - it was too late, so Dan might as well keep giving in to his selfishness. On his way to the bed, he snatched up his pants and pulled them on. Then he sat down on the bed, felt it dip under his weight, and allowed Kyle to pull him in under the covers.

“Ugh, you’re cold,” Kyle complained, and Dan wiggled against him until Kyle slung an arm and a leg across him. Kyle spooned him with an ease and self-assuredness that made it feel like they’d done it a thousand times before, his legs sliding down so their calves were crossed, and rested his arm so it hugged Dan’s chest.

Yet again, Dan melted into the touch like he couldn’t help it, and Kyle pressed a contented little hum into the nape of his neck, sending a shiver of absolute comfort down Dan’s spine. Before long, his eyelids grew heavy, and he knew that he wouldn’t wake up here, in this time. With an effort of will, he rolled around under Kyle’s arm to come face to face with him.

“Kyle.”

He made a noise, clearly already half-asleep himself.

“Kyle, I’m so sorry,” Dan said, and he had to force the words out.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Kyle mumbled, words slurred with sleep. Dan felt the hot burn of tears threatening to spill and he closed his eyes tightly.

“I’m not- I’m going to leave,” he said, and he saw Kyle’s brow furrow as his grip around Dan tightened, even as he seemed incapable of forcing his eyes open. “I’ll stay for as long as I can, but I- I have to leave.”

“Why?” Kyle still didn’t open his eyes, and Dan leaned in to kiss him right between his thick eyebrows. Kyle splayed his hand against Dan’s back, a wonderful, warm weight, and for a good while, Dan stayed absolutely still. Eventually, the press of Kyle’s hand eased, his body went lax and his breathing evened out in sleep.

“This is going to be like it never happened,” Dan whispered, and then he let himself be pulled under and fall asleep in Kyle’s arms.

△

Like Dan had hoped, or maybe feared, he woke up in a different bed, alone. He immediately turned over and fumbled for his phone - this time the passcode worked, and the date that blinked at him was June 24 2016, the time two hours after he’d crawled under the covers to take a nap.

“Fuck,” Dan said hoarsely and slumped onto his back, leaving the phone on the nightstand. It had to have been a lucid dream, he tried to reason, but as he shifted he felt the unmistakable and almost pleasant ache in his arse. No amount of dreaming would account for that.

He spared a pitying thought for his 2013 self, waking up in the morning after having slept through the night in only two hours and in the wrong year and missing his first big Glastonbury performance thanks to a fluke temporal displacement.

Dan rubbed at his face and startled at feeling the scruff of a five o’clock shadow lining his jaw; a harsh reminder that more time than two hours had passed for his body since he lay down to sleep newly-shaven. That headache still threatened, so Dan tried not to think about it - that wasn’t important.

What was important was Kyle. God, Dan could remember finding his clothes folded in his own room the morning after- Kyle had to have brought them back while he was sleeping, and he never mentioned anything. Fuck, Dan couldn’t even imagine pretending that- that had never happened. His honest confusion of missing an entire night must have seemed to Kyle like the worst kind of regret, like Dan didn’t want to admit it ever happened.

Dan threw off the duvet and put his feet to the floor, fighting a brief moment of vertigo before he launched himself upright to find his clothes. He pulled on black jeans that were a little more comfortable, found that black t-shirt with the white ribcage and pulled it over his head, before he hurriedly put on a pair of socks and those all-black Converse shoes. He didn’t bother tying the laces before he stumbled out into the corridor and he couldn’t remember which of the doors belonged to Kyle, but in desperation he knocked at the door opposite.

A confused Charlie opened the door and blinked at the state Dan was in, flushed and a little groggy, probably looking like absolute reheated garbage.

“What’s up, Dan?” he asked kindly, and Dan really didn’t deserve that kindness, not when Charlie’s presence made a muddled feeling twist in his stomach - relief at being back in his own time, absolute proof that this was real, even with all that it entailed.

“Sorry,” Dan said, and he’d been saying a lot of that lately, hadn’t he?  He scratched his neck, uncomfortable, and jumped when his fingers pressed into an unexpected sore spot. “I was looking for, er, Kyle.”

“He’s next to you, isn’t he?” Charlie said and nodded to the door a stone’s throw to the left of Dan’s.

“Right. Thanks.”

Dan remembered to step back  and turn around so Charlie could close the door. Then he stood stock still in the corridor for a good half-minute, paralyzed with indecision until a noise from somewhere down the corridor startled him into action. He took the two steps to reach Kyle’s door and lifted his hand to knock, and then, in a coincidence of cosmic irony, Kyle opened the door.

“Dan!” Kyle said. His hair was long enough to fall into his eyes and the full beard was so different from the trimmed facial hair that had left Dan’s lips red and tender.

“Kyle!” Dan said. They stared at each other for a moment, stretching out into an awkward silence

“Did you want something?” Kyle said at last, carefully. He was meeting Dan’s eyes but not quite head on somehow. Dan couldn’t put his finger on it, but maybe Kyle had always been this elusive, at least since-

“Yes,” Dan said and put his hands in his pockets before he did something stupid, like reached out to touch Kyle. “Yeah, I want to- I’d like to talk to you.”

“Alright,” Kyle said and turned his body sideways, allowing Dan to step across the threshold. A sense of foreboding settled heavy and uncomfortable in his stomach - him and Kyle alone in a room together, again.

The room looked nothing like the last one, Dan thought. He opened his mouth and realised he had no idea what to say. Distraught, he pulled a hand through his unstyled hair and looked at Kyle, who wore a nonplussed expression on his face and had his arms crossed. He was also wearing a black t-shirt, and again Dan felt a terrible sense of déjà vu.

“What, are you kicking me out of the band or something?” Kyle asked, with just enough of a humorous inflection in his voice to not make it an accusation. Dan started and stared at him, probably with enough horror in his eyes that Kyle was taken aback, his arms dropping to his sides. “Hey, seriously Dan, what is it?”

“You remember the last time we were at Glastonbury?”  Dan blurted out. Immediately Kyle’s arms came up to cross on his chest again, something flinty falling like a shutter across his eyes.

“Unlike you,” he said, each word sharp and precise like shards of glass. Like he was daring Dan to contradict him. Dan rubbed the heel of his hand into his right eye, partly to make himself focus and partly to avoid Kyle’s gaze.

“I don’t- Kyle,” he said, helplessly, and let his hand drop. But there was no help forthcoming. Kyle’s stare was unforgiving, his body rigid. Dan ached for the way he’d curled around him, last night, three years ago. “You won’t believe me, but I didn’t remember until now.”

“Fuck you Dan,” Kyle said, quietly. It hurt more than Dan expected, knocked the breath right out of him, and he could only stare back. “I mean, fuck, you can pretend we didn’t shag all you like, but don’t pull this bullshit on me now.”

“I’m not- I wouldn’t. Kyle,” Dan said, this horrible bottomless notion opening up inside him. It had all been real, and he’d never meant to hurt Kyle like this but he _had_ and, ironically, he couldn’t go back. That Kyle would think so little of him made a certain amount of sense though, and Dan closed his eyes, briefly.

When he fixed his gaze on Kyle again he said:

“Would you sit down, I need to- to tell you something.”

“Fuck off, I’m not going to sit,” Kyle said solemnly, and Dan swallowed.

“The reason I didn’t remember that night is because it wasn’t me.” Kyle didn’t move, he didn’t even blink. Dan went on. “It wasn’t me _then,_ it was me now. To me, we had sex last night. I don’t know-”

At this, Kyle’s stony expression wavered.

“Dan, don’t tell me you’re tripping or something, we’re on in like, an hour,” he said with a frown. “Where’d you even-”

Frustrated, Dan reached out and grabbed his arm. Kyle clearly hadn’t expected it, his arms coming unwound as he looked Dan deep in the eyes - probably trying to check for signs of intoxication or other substance abuse, Dan realised with a little stab of anger. Whatever else, he wouldn’t do _that._ Not right before a show.

“I told you, after the gig, before we went to drink water, that I was having a midsummer night’s dream,” Dan said, swallowing the desperate beating of his heart in his throat. “And last night- here, or now, you said, you said today was midsummer. That didn’t mean shit to me then, but it does now!”

“What the fuck are you saying, Dan?” Kyle said quietly, and Dan could see the doubt in his eyes - doubt in Dan or in himself, Dan couldn’t tell. He didn’t let go of Kyle’s arm, but reached up with his other hand to tug down the collar of his t-shirt.

“I traveled through fucking time and you gave me this fucking love bite when we had sex in two thousand fucking thirteen and I know it sounds completely mad but I can still feel your fucking cock in my arse.”

Kyle only stared, his lips slightly parted.

“I- I need to sit down,” he said at last, and Dan let go of his arm so he could slump down on the bed. Dan stayed where he was, and now it was his turn to cross his arms. Like he could somehow shield himself from the fallout of his unhinged monologue.

Kyle stared out at nothing for a good while, unblinking and quiet. His hands were braced on the bed, fingers loosely curled around the edge of the frame. Then he raised his eyes to look at Dan.

“So if that’s- If that’s true, what- what does it mean?”

Again Dan pulled a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he was unable to control.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m sorry it took a time trip for me to find out how much I care about you and- god, Kyle, no matter how drunk I was, I would never- I could never pretend that didn’t happen. I’m so fucking sorry I did that to you and I wish- I just, I shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah,” Kyle said with a watery chuckle. “You probably shouldn’t have.”

Dan closed his eyes again, felt that burn of unshed tears behind his eyelids, and drew in a shaky breath. He heard Kyle move, and his eyes shot open when he felt a tentative touch to his neck.

Kyle was still an arm’s length away, but he’d reached out to let his index finger trail over the bruise at the base of Dan’s neck, where it peeked up above the crooked collar of his t-shirt. Kyle’s eyes were steadfastly fixed on it. Then Kyle looked up, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I can’t believe the universe had to send you through time for you to get laid.”

“Kyle,” Dan said, his hand coming up to grab his wrist. Instinctively, they both moved closer, just one step each that brought them so close that Dan had to crane his neck to look him in the eyes.

“It’s been three years,” Kyle murmured, the smile fading, and Dan could see the years in the lines around his eyes.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” Dan said again, and it seemed like Kyle believed him and forgave him, because he closed the remaining distance between them to kiss Dan on the mouth. Dan shivered and fell into it, like coming home after a long trip.

Kyle’s hand was now cradling his face, his palm warm against his skin, and Dan put his own hands on Kyle’s waist to tug him closer. They parted with a shared sigh, and Kyle nudged Dan’s nose with his own, a stunning imitation of what he’d done three years previous.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get to do that again,” he said, and his eyes were so warm when they looked at Dan that he felt something almost like embarrassment at it. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Kyle pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You have to stop saying you’re sorry, I get it.”

“So, we should just- move past it?” Dan said, almost shyly. Kyle trailed his thumb across Dan’s cheek, looked down for a second before he met his eyes again.

“We should look to the future, don’t you think?” he said, and Dan felt himself smile.

“Yeah,” he said, and at that moment there was a sharp rap at the door, and Dick’s voice sounded through it:

“Kyle, we need to get going! Can you find Dan?”

“No problem, Dick!” Kyle called back, and Dan muffled a laugh by burying his face in Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle wound his arms around him, giving him a hug  so solid that it made Dan sigh.

“You up for a bit of singing, time traveler?” Kyle murmured, turning his head to press the words into Dan’s hair.

“I don’t know,” Dan said slowly. “I did blow you pretty recently, I hope my voice isn’t shot to hell.”

Kyle made an indignant sound and pushed Dan away. But Dan only laughed and clung to him, pressed a kiss to his bristly cheek. They could look the future now, and Dan didn’t need to hear Kyle say it or travel in time to know they were going to rock this gig.


End file.
